West Past Connecticut
by Bookworm1027
Summary: Isabella Swan, a shy and lonely eastern girl during the 1840's, is shipped to her father's home town of Masen, out in the wild west. Not sure if I want to continue. Let me know. T for now, might change depending on reviews.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Nice to Meet You, Ma'am**

The dry air seemed to swarm into my unfamiliar lungs as a cluster of bees would swoop upon an unsuspecting hive of honey. I coughed loudly as the uncomfortable dryness caked in my throat.

I stood in front of a long, coal-black colored train, the bustling station circling around me. In my hand I held a small purse, the cream color matching my modest gown. I pulled my bonnet tighter around my head, fighting the nervous urge to run back on the steel beast. The everything around me seemed somewhat wild, people rushing to and fro, men carrying guns and open drinks, a few women dressed immodestly and leaning up against walls, taking money from men who looked more than pleased to give it to them…. My nerves erupted in the pit of my stomach.

I perched upwards looking around for the one face that would look a little like me…

"Water, Miss?" A small hand formed in front of my vision, the tanned skin dirt covered and nails bitten down to pure nubs. The voice that had greeted me was high pitched and fragile. If a butterfly could speak, I would imagine it shared this voice.

I looked down, surprised to see a young girl-of no more than ten years-looking up at me. Her features and form might have look dainty and lady-like, if she were dressed like a lady, but instead of a pretty dress to match her features she wore a pair of too-long trousers that scrapped the ground and a grown man's shirt. Her coal dark hair was long and hanging loose behind her. In her china doll hand she held a small mug of water.

"Thank you," I said, somewhat surprised by a gesture of grace and kindness in a place that my mother had always deemed _barbaric _and _savage_.

The water was cold and perfect as it slide down my dust-caked throat. I drank and drank, taking large gulps at a time until my chest began to ache with its need for breath. I stopped with a gasp as the air entered my grateful lungs.

"Thank you very much, Miss." I said again to the girl. She nodded and smiled once. Something in her eyes seemed expectant.

With a small jolt of realization, I handed the girl the now mostly-empty water jug and dug quickly through my purse. She grinned at me-a grin of triumph, even as her front two teeth were missing-and tucked the coin I had handed her into a torn pocket.

"Well, I thank you kindly Ma'am," she was standing on her toes, bouncing up and down slightly in excitement. "You see my Ma says I can't have my own gun till I earn it on my own-'cause t'aint proper for a girl to have one, she says-so I gotta get the money myself."

" Oh my!" A _girl_ own a _gun_? I couldn't imagine even holding one, let alone this little wisp of a child doing it! "Why do you _want_ a…a gun?" What could she possibly need with a weapon? A pretty girl like this?

Her grin dropped into a glare-a glare of defiance at my doubtful tone, if I were to guess.

"My Pa and my brother get guns-even though only my brother does any shootin'-and I want one to! I'm just as tough and as smart and as…as-"

"I can see you're quite a capable young lady." I told her, unable to suppress my patronizing smile at her adorable tenaciousness.

Her small chapped lip curled upwards into what I supposed was to be a menacing scowl.

"'Scuse my sayin' so, Miss, but I 'aint no _Lady_-" the word was spit out, as if dirt filled her small mouth. -"Like yourself. I'm gonna be a wrangler when I get big enough. The first girl wrangler in all of Oklahoma!" Her eyes twinkled with determination that fell just a second later.

"Alice! Mary Alice!"

I turned to the right to see a slightly older woman, her hair a flowing caremeal and skin several shades paler than the young girl next to me. Her dress-though obviously not new-was a lovely shade of dark green and fitted her curved form nicely. Her eyes were blazing when she reached us.

The woman grabbed Alice's arm and turned her to face those blazing eyes.

"Mary Alice!" She said again, her chastisement obviously working.

The girls skin flushed with embarrassment. "What Ma?" she said-a low mumble-and she couldn't quite meet her mother's eyes.

"I can't believe you! Running away-again-to haggle some poor woman for money! When your father hears about this…" her sentence was left hanging, but her message was clearly understood. "Now, Alice, apologize to this lovely young lady for being so nice to you and run along. Get in the wagon, we're going home."

Alice turned toward me and muttered out a barely audible "Sorry, Miss Lady." before trudging pathetically off.

Her mother sighed, shaking her head and rubbing her hands gently across her glistening forehead. I smiled and bent down, offering her the smidgen of water left in the mug Alice had dropped in her departure. She smiled and took it from me, finishing off the cool liquid.

"Thank you" she said after a moment. Her voice held no twang or accent as her daughters had. She gave me a wry smile. "I must apologize on my daughter's behalf. Alice -as much as everyone loves her-is a bit pigheaded."

I laughed. "I found her charming, Mrs…?."

"Cullen. Esme Cullen." She held her hand out, taking my gloved in her possession. "And people always do, at first." Her grin was teasing.

"Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Cullen."

Her eyes narrowed as they traveled up and down my body in a curious movement, finally returning to my gaze. "I'm sorry, Miss, but I'm afraid I do not recall seeing you anywhere. In a town as small as Masen, you can understand, that's a rare happenstance."

I could feel additional heat flood to my face. "I uh…I'm-"

"Isabella?"

I could recognize the general sound of the voice that called to me, but I also noted the differences from what I had once known. It was deeper and fuller, as though it had somehow grown. And his tone was not one I had expected. Instead of recognition or welcome, his voice was layered with hopefulness and uncertainty.

He was just as tall as he was last time, but not quite as fit. His stomach seemed to have expanded some through the years and his arms were less bulky. His face was much the same-plump cheeks that blushed nearly as often as did mine, a wide brow constantly furrowed above wide dark brown eyes, and a large and bushy mustache that completely covered his mouth. He still wore his uniform-something I had never seen him without-and his hand rested lightly on his gun holster, as it always had.

My smile was as cheerful as I could make it. "Yes, its me."

He grinned back-or at least, I thought he did, though I couldn't be sure-and muttered out "You've grown."

Mrs. Cullen still stood between us, her face drawn up in confusion. Finally, she turned to face the third member of our party with open cheerfulness.

"Sheriff!" They shook hands. "How lovely to see you again!."

A nod and a gruff, "Mrs. Cullen," was his reply.

I would have felt awkward with his lack of words, but Mrs. Cullen-obviously a professional with all things social-didn't miss a beat as she continued on. "I was down here picking up little Alice again-one of these days, Sheriff, I'm just going to ask you and Emmett to lock her up for a few hours. A troublesome girl like her might need the scare." Her laugh was light and unhurried. I saw the Sheriff's mustache twitch in spite of himself. "She was just in the middle of rustling a dime out of this young Miss when I caught her. I see you to know each other?"

"My daughter, Isabella."

Mrs. Cullen was delighted. "A daughter! Well I didn't know you had any children, Sheriff Swan." she turned to me. "You must have been away at school, Miss Swan. It's so nice to make your acquaintance."

We shook again.

I didn't bother to correct her assumption.

"You two must come for dinner some time this week-I insistence upon it."

Charlie said nothing, so I hesitantly approached conversation. "We'd be delighted, Mrs. Cullen. Thank you so much."

We exchanged the last set of good-byes and see-you-soons before she left, stepping gracefully into a modest carriage at the end of the train.

Silence stretched on for a moment.

"Where are your things?"

I pointed to the pile beside me, which had been unloaded some time ago.

Charlie looked confused.

"That it?"

"Was I supposed to bring more?"

He shook his head at me. His hand scratched his head thoughtfully before he responded. "No, I reckon this is better-less to load anyway. I just remembered ladies normally having more items than they needed."

I blinked. "This is all I need."

"Right."

He picked up my few bags and motioned me to follow him.

The buggy we used was an open top, with just enough room in the back for my things. Has he helped me up into the seat I could feel the eye of everyone around me. What they must be thinking of me…some strange girl they had never heard of…going to the home of a public figure…I would be the gossip for weeks.

I looked straight ahead as Charlie climbed up beside me, trying my hardest not to let my cheeks color again.

Only one horse pulled us, but it was a strong, young looking thing with a skin as dark as midnight. For a moment, I debated asking for his name but stopped myself. It seemed like such a silly thing to ask. Charlie drove him well down the gravel track, with a simple confidence and ease that I had never gained from him.

"You're bigger than you were last time," he told me. I looked over at him and our eyes met. He blushed. "I mean-not bigger as in…_larger_. But older. You look _older._" he let out a breath of nervous air. "How old are ya now? Sixteen?"

"Nineteen."

"Ah."

The silence stretched on again.

Not surprisingly, Charlie proved the to be brave one. "Isabella," he began.

"Bella."

"What?"

I swallowed. "I…I would prefer to go by Bella, if it doesn't…bother you."

"No, no," He was quick to reassure me. "Bella it is."

"Bella," he started once more. I could tell that he had practice this speech as he prepared himself-that he knew exactly what he wanted to say. "I know…I know that you might not have ever planned on livin' out here, and that you'd probably much rather be with your mother out East but…well, I may not be a rich or exciting man but…I'll do the best for you I can. I've got me a nice home and a good horse." He patted the beast in front of him. "And I'll try not to be too much of a bother. I hope that you can be…that you can be happy here."

He exhaled.

That may have been the longest he had ever spoken to me.

I took a breath too.

"I don't need much…Father." the term felt odd on my lips, " Except a nice home and a good book. I'll stay out of trouble for you." I looked at him, pleased to find a small smile on his face. "And I can cook." I told him quickly. "I'm really a very good cook."

Please let me stay, I let my eyes plead with him. I had no where else to go. I needed to be good for him, so he wouldn't throw me away.

Cautiously, moving very slowly, his hand moved over to give mine an affectionate by awkward squeeze.

"I think we'll work out just fine, Bella."

I hoped so.

Not too long later we pulled up in front of a small, but quaint looking house. It was only one story, but looked plenty big. The wood had been painted a yellow that had dulled through the years, along with the blue of the window panes. In the front of the yard was a tall and wide oak tree, a swing hanging from it's lowest branch. Neighbors were on both side of the house and continuing down for a little ways.

Charlie lived right on the edge of town-near other people, but away from his office and the shops and saloons. I was thankful for that. At least I'd get a little privacy for a day or two.

Charlie helped me bring in my trunks, holding open the gate to the white fence out front. Inside, he gave me a quick tour of the place, finally showing me to my room.

It was very simple, with a blue bedspread and curtains. The room was just big enough for my bed, one wardrobe and one vanity. "Will this…will it do?" He asked me.

I made the effort to smile at him. "Its perfect. Thank you."

He nodded at me, taking a step towards the door. "I have dinner on the table when you're…when your ready. Mrs. Stanley-lives a few houses down-brought it over for us. She's nice like that. A little bit of a chatter, but nice. I'll just let ya-unpack?"

I nodded. "I'll be a few minutes."

He turned to leave but the words leapt out of my throat, as if they lived and breathed on their own. "Ch-Father? Thank you for letting me stay here. I…I really appreciate it."

His look was a serious one. "You're always welcome here, Bella. No matter what."

Unpacking my few belongings didn't take nearly as long as I would have hoped for. By the time I was finished all of my dressed were hung up, and my two pairs of shoes were tucked underneath my bed. My hairbrush and the very few cosmetics I owned-but never used-were spread out across the vanity.

I sat down and looked at myself.

My eyes were still bloodshot-red from the tears I had halted just moments ago. Slipping of my bonnet, I could see that my hair was in a state of distress. I brushed it out and put it up again, trying to spend a few more minutes. By the time I was done, I looked much the same as always.

The table was set when I got downstairs, and Charlie was pacing in front of it.

Dinner was a silent one, and filled with tension. Near the end of our speedy meal, Charlie spoke up.

"I was-I was thinkin', Bella, that I might bring you into town tomorrow, if you'd like? I could show you around and maybe pick up anything you needed?"

My heart sank.

"That…that would be lovely. Thank you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Welcome to Masen**

The town of Masen, Oklahoma was a small town with barely three hundred people. There was only one General Store, which held everything from ammunition, to baby blankets, to canned foods. It was ran by the Newton family-a older couple, with a son around my age. As Charlie introduced them to me, I could feel their gazes shift from curiosity to shock. Apparently, though almost no one knew about _me_, it was very clear by their pregnant glances that they all had heard of my mother.

Charlie didn't so much as parade me around town as he took me to meet a few very specific people. For that I was glad. Besides, I soon found out that by introducing yourself to two members of Masen, you were actually introducing yourself to two-_hundred_ members. By the time we had exited the post office (located directly next to the general store) people were stepping up in the road to greet me by name, and to shake my hand.

It was all very overwhelming.

Just after lunch-which we had enjoyed at widow Cope's home, per her request-Charlie took me into the office to meet his deputy. I was immediately relieved to find that no criminals were locked away at the moment.

Charlie noticed my glance at the jail cells. "Its been quiet week," he informed me. "Normally we have one or two men in here for their overindulgence of whiskey."

"Oh."

At one of the two desks near the door sat a man only a few years older than myself. He was very large and rippled with strength-the width of his arm equaling three of mine. His large and beefy legs were propped on the table in from of him, as the rest of his body was reclined backward in his chair. I could only see his chin, because the rest of his face was covered by a heavy hat. A snore erupted from his bear-like chest.

I almost laughed-my first in months-as Charlie rolled his eyes. He stepped forward and kicked on of the legs of the chair, causing it to fall backward with a loud thump and a curse. My cheeks flooded color at the profanity.

The large man leapt up to his feet, gun drawn. He swung it around wildly, his eyes wide with alarm. I gasped as it pointed in my direction.

"Cullen!" Charlie barked out.

The man blinked slowly once, and then twice. He looked at Charlie before seeming to gain purchase of his surroundings.

"Shit, Sheriff," he groaned, his eyes drooping with exhaustion.

"Emmett," Charlie's voice was practically a growl. He nodded her head in my direction. "This is my daughter, Bella. And watch your mouth 'round a lady, boy. That's an offense."

Emmett grinned at me, tucking his gun away neatly. He stepped forward, offering his hand. When he shook mine, my entire arm jiggled with the movement. "Mighty nice to meet ya, Miss Swan." His smile was wide and contagious-it reached it eyes and was tinted with dimples. "You'll have ta excuse my language, Ma'am. The only women I'm around these days are my wife, my Ma, and my sister. The first two are used to it-the third cusses worse' an me." His chuckles vibrated through the station. He nudged Charlie teasingly with his shoulder. "Sheriff here been talkin' about you comin' for almost a full month."

I saw Charlie blush as he rolled his eyes again and changed the direction. "Any calls in today, Cullen?" His tone was brusque.

"Not yet-"

With perfect timing, the door to the station swung open. A woman burst in and I gasped at the sight of her.

Her dress was short, going all the way up to her knees. On her legs, instead of simple cream stocking, were black webbed tights that I had never seen before. Her dress was covered in lace and the color itself was outlandishly bright-a green that almost made me want to cover my eyes at the sight of her. Even her shoes seemed provocative, high heeled and silk covered. Her blonde-red hair was curled and piled high on her head, just above her heavily painted face. She even had a feather sticking out of the top of her hair band

I could-underneath all of this-see that she was very pretty. But I couldn't take my eyes off her outfit.

Emmett shot straight up at the sight of her, taking a few steps backward. I saw Charlie glance at me-my mouth most likely gaping wide- before blushing brightly himself.

This woman walked with a purpose, her hips swaying in such a way that I would never be brave enough to do.

"Sheriff," she said, her voice surprisingly deep and serious. "I think you should be headin' down to the saloon-mighty nasty brawl going down."

"Right." Charlie's words were a sigh. "I'll be back," he announced to the room.

The woman looked at me then and she smiled.

She walked up to me and I swallowed. "Hi there, sweetie," she told me, touching her finger to my nose. "You must be the Sheriff's daughter. I've heard an awful lot about ya, honey. I'm Tanya."

She stuck her hand out to shake mine.

I didn't know what to make of a woman like this. On one hand, they way she was dressed would make it forbidden to talk to her back home, and her appearance obviously caused a reaction among Charlie. But she was acting very polite and nice, and despite her dress, she had done nothing wrong.

I stood there for a moment, unsure of my actions.

Emmett had relaxed at this point and went up to us, smiling politely at Tanya. "You'll have to excuse Miss Swan, Tanya. She ain't yet used to our ways out here. Your probably giving her a bit of a scare."

Tanya turned back to me then, her face apologetic. "Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare ya sweetie."

"No.' my voice was shaky. "I'm fine-really. It's lovely to meet you, Ma'am."

"You too," she smiled at me. I could see then, that behind all of the make up, Tanya almost had a motherly appeal. She appeared to be several years older than I. "You look just like your Pa, you know that? He's a good man, your father."

She turned to Emmett. "How's your wife, Sugar? She doin' alright?"

Emmett laugh and half groaned. "Sick day and night," he informed her with a look stuck between misery and pride. "I'm thinking it's a boy."

"Tell he 'hi' for me," she told him, heading out of the office. "Nice to meet, ya, Miss Swan." she called as she exited.

I let out a breath as the door shut behind her. "You'll have to get used to Tanya," Emmett told me, gesturing towards a seat.

"Is she a…" I let the word go unsaid.

"A woman of ill repute?" he finished. I blushed and gave a small nod, avoiding his eyes. "Yes, Miss, but its different out here than the east. Tanya's a good lady. She's just got a job that's a little different than ours. My wife used to work with her, you know."

"Oh" I said quickly. "I didn't mean to-"

He held his hand up to silence me. "I know you didn't, Miss Swan. I'm just sayin' that things are little different out here."

I smiled wryly at him. "I'm beginning to see that, Sir."

We shared a gentle laugh.

A few minutes later Charlie burst back in the door. His clothes were ruffled and ripped in a few places and his mood seemed to have taken a turn for the worst.

"I'm too old for this," he muttered, dropping down tiredly into his chair.

I took a long minute to steel my nerve before approaching Charlie. "Father," I asked, running my hands nervously down my dress, "I know you have to…to work, but would it be alright if picked up some things on my own? For the house, I mean? I've got some money and-"

"No, that' fine," Charlie seemed eager that I wanted to do something. "But you don't need to spend any money you have. If its for the house, you can go ahead and put in on a tab from me. No one should bother you about it, and if they do have 'em come see me."

I nodded my understanding. We agreed to meet back here in an hour, and I said a quite good-bye with Emmett before heading out.

The streets were filled with people who all seemed to have a place to go. I looked around-gaining my bearings-before heading off. I entered to General Store again, with a overly polite greeting from Mrs. Newton.

"Miss Swan!" She gushed. "How nice to see you in here again! What are you looking for?"

"Oh, I just need some things for dinner tonight…"

"Of course, of course." She pulled me by the arm and led my to the store counter. "I'm sure we can get you everything you need." She turned away from me, yelling towards the back of the store. "Michael!" a pause. "MICHAEL!"

The curtains which led to the back were pulled apart as the blonde haired male I saw earlier came into view. "What, Ma?" he groaned, his eyes settling on me after a moment.

"Please assist the lovely Miss Swan with whatever she might need."

"No, really-"

"Sure, Ma." Michael turn to grin at me. "What's first, Miss Swan?"

"Oh, I-" I turned to tell Mrs. Newton that really, I was fine on my own, only to see her gone. "I guess." I swallowed, ignoring the nerves fluttering within me. Hadn't I dealt eith enough new people already today?. "I guess I need flour and eggs?"

His grin was just a little too bright for my liking. "Right this way, Miss Swan."

We worked through the entire list in about half an hour-which I though was just a bit longer than necessary, especially considering how uncomfortable I was. It seemed that as we began Michael was very polite and behaved fine. But by the end, however, I couldn't help but notice how close he stood to me, and that his hand swept across mine a time or two. Was this just another aspect of Western society I wasn't familiar with? Did people get too close and too polite normally? Was I over reacting again?

"Where would you like this?" Michael asked me, holding all of my bags as I finished putting them on Charlie's tab. His body seemed to shake with the effort of holding them all, and I wondered why he did let me take some, or at least make two trips. There was no point in hurting himself.

"Our wagon?" I guessed out loud. "You don't think anyone will take them, do you?"

"I doubt many would risk the Sheriff's fury, Miss Isabella."

I jumped slightly at the sound of my name that way. Though it certainly wasn't improper, no one else-not even Tanya, with all her "_sweeties" _and "_sugars_" had used my first name. How did he even know it? I had certainly never told him.

I sighed, thinking about how much information had spread around town by this point.

"Miss Isabella," he addressed me again. I felt my face scrunch at the sound of my new informal title. I didn't like the way my name sounded, rolling of his lips. Like it was too practiced-like he took too much pleasure in saying it. "My shift ended in just a few more moments, and I would be most delighted to show you around town." His smiled took up his entire face, but not in the charming, natural way Emmett's had. Michael's smile took effort.

"Oh," my mind scrambled, trying to think of an excuse to go alone. "Well, I-"

"Michael!" the name was screamed at a alarmingly high pitched voice, the sound almost nasal.

We both pivoted to see a girl of our age all but sprinting towards us, holding the hand of her companion. Though both girls had dark hair and pale skin, there was a world of difference between them.

The first girl-the one who had called out Michael's name in an absurdly familiar fashion-wore an expression of joy and excitement. Her dress-though modest-was brightly colored and her hair was a little too loose for most settings. She all but ran to us, and I could see her exaggerated bosom bouncing with each step.

The girl she was dragging behind her, however, did not wear a look of joy, but rather of exasperation and humiliation. She was several inches taller than the other girl, and her dress was far simpler.

"Why, Mr. Michael Newton," the first girl's voice is practically a purr as she greets the young man beside me. "Where have you been hidin' all week, sir?" I think she wants to sound teasing and playful, but all I can hear in her voice is her nasal accent. If she had had a fan in her hand, I imagined she would have fluttered it in time with her painted eyelashes.

"Miss Jessie," Michael gives her a low bow, and I can feel his eyes flicker between us. He casts a uninterested glance to the friend of the nasal-toned girl. "Miss Weber."

"Mr. Newton." her response shows there is no affection lost between them.

Michael waves his hand in front of, showing me off as if I were his prize pony. "May I introduce you to Miss Isabella Swan. She's new in town and just accepted my offer to show her 'round ." My lip twitches at his blatant lie. For the first time in quite a while I feel outrageously annoyed.

I've been irritated before, of course, but with my mother or with my step father. This is the first time someone my own age-a peer-has bothered me so. I'm not used to being able to _do _anything about irritants. In my world, the only words young Lady's got to use were "Yes, Ma'am" or "No, Ma'am."

But this is a new world-a wild world. Why not let myself get a little wild too? If only to get rid of Newton.

"Actually, Miss Jessie, Miss Weber, I agreed to no such thing." I muster up the best glare I can manage-it feels odd on my face, because I've never made the expression before. "And I do not appreciate you putting words in my mouth, Mr. Newton." I turn back to the other girls. The first look at me with contempt, the second has a shadow of a smile gracing her features. "It was a pleasure to meet you both, but I really must be going." I give a quick and small curtsy before walking quickly down the road.

I walk with a lightness within me that I've never felt before. In Connecticut, I would not have dreamed of speaking rudely to anyone, let alone a young man. My mother wouldn't have heard it.

_How will you ever marry, Isabella, if you continue to behave so boorishly?_

But now I realized that one good thing, perhaps just one, about moving here was that I needn't be _Isabella_ ever again. I could redefine myself-become who I wanted to be. Maybe I could be good enough for some man, good enough for my father, good enough for _somebody_.

A little over fifteen minutes later I exited the small and somewhat lacking bookstore with a new copy of _The Republic_. It was one of my favorites, and I had been forced to abandon my last copy at home-back east.

I was walking across the street to my father's office when heard a loud rip, and looked down to see a tear in the hem of my dress. I stopped, setting my book carefully down in a mud-free patch of dirt so I could examine it. The dress was one of my better ones, and reasonably new, and I loathed having to buy more. Luckily the tear was small, and I had been meaning to do some sewing soon.

"Ma'am! Ma'am!"

Suddenly I was flying backwards through the air, a hard weight pushing against me. Unconsciously I griped the solid force that flung me, hoping to somehow brace the oncoming fall. I clinched my eyes and mouth tightly shut, preparing to feel the ground stick my back.

A loud _uhf _echoed from below me as my head thumped against the dirt bottom.

A pain reared through my skull. I gave a small moan at the feeling of pain that shocked the back of my head. My hands instinctively tightened around whatever I may have been holding.

I kept my eyes closed to help with the pain, but could clearly hear mutterings and gasps from a crowd surrounding me. I sighed, thinking of the unfortunate gossip that was sure to increase. Each whisper or mumble around me cause a small hammer to beat inside my skull. I felt dizzy with it.

A smoothness swept across my jaw line, moving up to cup my blushing cheek. My head was tugged upwards. "Miss? Miss? Are you quite alright? Should the physician be called?"

My eyes fluttered open then. I squinted against the uncomfortable brightness of impaling sunlight. Finally my eyes having adjusted, I was met with a shocking, blazing emerald gaze staring back at me.

The face smiled at me-a wide, crooked smile. "Miss? A pleasure to met you. I'm Edward Masen."

I moved my arms to grip my head. It did nothing to alleviate the pain.

The word came out of my throat with a groggy slur. "You are quite handsome, Mr. Masen. Although you _must_ watch where you're going. I think you've hurt my head."

My skull dropped back and suddenly the world faded out. The voices, thankfully, disappeared into the darkness.


End file.
